by Megan Hart
“Butler,” she whispered, sending out the push, shaping the dreamscape around her to match her will. “Butler, please find me.”
She made herself a beacon. It was all she should do. If he wanted her, his desire would tug at her and she’d be able to find him. But so far, all she felt was the wavering, distant push from other shapers who were dealing with their own dreams.
At ten, the accident had triggered something in her that she’d never known before. There’d been nobody to teach her how to manipulate the Ephemeros. She’d had to figure it out on her own, through research and practice and the occasional interaction within the dream world with others who could shape the way she could. She knew there were some who made it their duty to assist dreamers with their nightly adventures, filling in the spots they couldn’t or playing whatever roles were necessary to make the dream happen. Some shapers made it their business to make nightmares happen, too, but Mariella had been no more interested in that than she’d been in making any other kind of dream come true. In the Ephemeros, she wanted only to play.
Right now, she was verging on desperate to play with Butler.
Behind her, the ocean. In front of her, the mountains, distant again without Butler to bring them closer. The black sand beneath her feet shifted, cool and soft. She lifted her face to the breeze and breathed, sending out her desire as far and wide as she could.
Butler.
A man materialized. Tall, dark and handsome, especially with his crimson eyes and the ebony wings sprouting from his bare, muscled back. He wore only a pair of black silk pajama bottoms, draped low on his hips. And his body...Good Lord. He had abs upon abs upon abs. But he wasn’t what she wanted.
“No,” she said.
The angel-vampire-whatever-the-fuck-it-was straightened. The wings unfurled, making a wind that blew back her hair. A low chuckle issued from what admittedly was a very lovely mouth...for someone into that sort of thing.
“No?” it asked. “I think you mean yes.”
Oh, hell, no. Mariella drew herself up. She hadn’t been representing as anything but herself, albeit a little thinner, her hair a shade of blond she’d never even tried in real life. But she wasn’t pretending to be some kind of creature. Not until now.
She grew taller. Hair wild and flowing. In her hand a weapon, some long sword of shining silver with a hilt in the shape of a wolf’s head.
“No,” she repeated.
For a moment, the thing shimmered. Beneath the dark hair she caught a glimpse of pale brown. Glasses on a round face. Feminine curves. Interesting, she had time to think before the angel-thing solidified again.
“I could smell your desire. I came. You want me. Everyone wants me,” the thing said. “You want me!”
“No. I don’t. I want—”
“Butler,” the thing said. “You want Butler.”
Mariella hefted the sword. “Go away. This isn’t your business. Find someone else to play with.”
“I want you,” the thing said.
Shit. There’d been a few times when Mariella had faced this before. Another shaper insistent on pressing his or her will on her own. It hadn’t ended well for any of them, and she didn’t think it would do so now. She took the sword in both hands, holding it out in front of her.
The angel-thing came at her. Mariella swung, bringing blood, but in the next instant she was on her back with the thing’s wings beating at her. Sand flew into her eyes, blinding her. Stinging. She felt the rake of claws on her, tearing away her clothes. There was pain—you might not be able to die in a dream, but shit could sure hurt.
Screaming, Mariella bucked upward but the angel-thing’s weight was too heavy. The wings battered her, making it impossible to see or hear. All she could do was fight and scream and send out her will to push the thing away.
“Butler!”
The angel-thing’s hands went around Mariella’s throat. Squeezing. Mariella choked, unable to scream, but pushed herself, her represented self, into another form. Spikes shot from every part of her, piercing the thing on top of her. With an agonized shriek, it fell away, and Mariella rolled to her feet. She’d never been a big fan of superhero movies, had caught only bits and pieces of X-Men, but suddenly she felt like Wolverine. Only all over.
It lasted only a moment, though, because the angel-thing rallied. Claws. Fangs. Wings tipped with razors. It came at her again, jaw gaping like an anaconda’s, and Mariella tried to duck away but couldn’t. Not in time. She hit the sand again, warm from the blood gushing out of her. She sent out another call, agonizing, screaming in her head as well as with her raw throat, bubbling blood.
The angel-thing roared. Its weight lifted. Then higher. A metal spike thrust through its chest, gushing black blood. It shriveled, writhing and screaming, and faded away.
“Butler,” Mariella cried. “You found me!”
He helped her up. Together they went into the ocean, which should have seared her wounds but instead soothed them. They floated. He cradled her, stroking her hair back from her face. She couldn’t remember the color any longer, but it was long again. She was naked. So was he.
But when she kissed him, he hesitated. Her wounds had disappeared. There was no more gore. She felt him stir against her, his cock thickening, but still he pulled away.
“I...can’t,” he said.
Mariella floated in the dream sea, her feet treading out of habit and memory, not need. She’d float forever if she wanted to. Or sink, and never drown.
“Why?”
“I’ve met someone,” Butler said. As he always had, he represented as nearly identical to his waking self.
The ocean receded, tossing them onto the sand. Mariella untangled herself from him. “What?”
Butler stood, too. “I really like her.”
Mariella shook her hair, already dry. It blew around her face until she forced it back. She wasn’t naked any longer, and that had come from him. He’d put clothes on her. “You know this is a dream, right?”
“I know. But...” He eyed her. “I’ve dreamed of you a lot.”
Mariella nodded. “Yes.”
“But I’ve dreamed of meeting someone like her for a lot longer,” Butler said. “I really like her. She’s like nobody I ever met before. Ever.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Mariella muttered. She had no idea what percentage of people were shapers compared to dreamers, but she knew there weren’t as many who could do what she did. “But it’s not like she’d really know.”
Ridiculous. She was tempting him to cheat on her with herself. And could you even call it cheating when they’d had one date and a few phone and video chats, and he’d barely kissed her? And this was a dream!
“I’m sorry.” Butler shrugged. “What can I say? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her all night. I was hoping to dream about her, but when I heard you calling me, I couldn’t ignore it. I had to come.”
A bench had shifted into existence next to them. A nice stone path. Some trees. They sat next to each other, knees touching occasionally, but it was so different from how they’d been at the restaurant and on the river path that there was no doubt about his interest in “Millie.” Or lack thereof.
“Look, I have to go.” Butler stood, looking into the distance before he smiled at her. “You take care, okay?”
“Wait a minute!” Mariella stood, too. “Butler. Listen to me...”
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I really have to go. I might be able dream about her tonight, if I’m lucky.”
Mariella sighed, feeling a tug of awareness pulling her up and out of sleep. “No, you won’t.”
He looked so dejected she wanted to tell him why, but before she could, her eyes opened to the sound of a far-off siren. Frustrated, she rolled onto her side and found her phone, snuggled in its docking station. S
he poked it to check the time and happily found a text from Butler waiting for her. She took her phone to answer it, knowing he was asleep, but not wanting to wait.
Hey, his said. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Hey, she replied. It’s tomorrow.
She meant to put her phone back on the dock and try and go back to sleep, but before she could, his answer came through.
Can’t wait to see you today.
And after that, there was no more point in trying to sleep.
* * *
“You look exhausted.” Kacey gave him a sympathetic glance. “Another rough night?”
“Hmm?” Butler looked up from the coffeepot, where he’d been pouring himself a fifth mug of terrible office brew. He’d been drinking it all day, interspersed with sodas, because there was no way he was going to fall asleep before his date with Mariella tonight. They’d both been up at 4:00 a.m. texting, then video chatting, then texting again while it was time to get ready for work. He was ready to keel over.
Kacey was looking at him expectantly, though he wasn’t sure why. She held out her mug for him to fill. “You look like you had bad dreams or something. This much coffee so late in the day? You’ll never get to sleep.”
“Fine by me. I need to get a second wind. Got a date tonight,” Butler said.
Seconds later, coffee splashed over him as Kacey tipped her mug by accident. Fortunately, this late in the day the coffee was not only terrible, but lukewarm. The worst that happened was it stained his white button-down, but he’d brought along clothes to change into before meeting Mariella at a local Italian place, so he’d be fine.
“I’m sorry,” Kacey cried. “I...are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Butler stopped to look at her. She didn’t look so great herself, now that he thought about it. Sort of pale, with dark circles under her eyes, and she winced when she moved too fast. “Are you okay?”
Kacey nodded, not looking at him. “Sure. Sure. Just...I guess I wasn’t paying attention. I mean, I was distracted. I had bad dreams last night. Tired.”
“Sorry to hear that.” He gave her a curious look. “Well, I better get back to work so I can get out of here on time.”
“You wouldn’t want to be late,” Kacey said, a little too harshly.
He gave her a look, but she was all smiles. “No, I don’t.”
“Where are you going?” she called after him. “On this big date?”
“Oh. Fennicci’s. Then a movie. Then,” Butler said with a small smile, “who knows?”
Behind him, he thought he heard the sharp clatter of a coffee mug hitting the floor, but when he looked back, the door to the break room had already closed behind him.
* * *
Dinner had been amazing. The movie hadn’t been so great, a B-grade thriller riddled with plot holes. But he’d held her hand throughout the entire movie as though it was the most important thing he’d ever done, and Mariella couldn’t remember ever enjoying a couple hours in a dark theater more.
Somehow, they’d ended up back at her place. On her couch. Ostensibly to watch another movie, but she at least hadn’t had any intentions of watching anything other than the dilation of his pupils when she kissed him. So far, they’d only sat there, close enough to touch, but not touching. Not even holding hands.
“Butler,” Mariella said finally. “Kiss me?”
He looked at her. “I wasn’t sure...”
“Kiss me,” she repeated, and slid onto his lap without waiting for him to move. She cupped his face in her hands and brushed her mouth on his. “Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.”
He did, at last, and it was as delightful as it had been that day by the river. Delicious as dreams. His tongue swept the inside of her mouth, and he caught hers, sucking gently until she sighed out a moan. When his hands slid up her sides to stop just below her breasts, she rocked against him, offering herself. But he didn’t move his hands.
“Touch me,” she whispered. “I want you to.”
Butler let out a low groan. Between them, his cock thickened. His hands moved over her breasts, thumbs expertly flicking her nipples to tight arousal. The kissing got harder. They shifted, twisting, until he was on top of her. They moved together. Wriggling, pushing, thrusting. Mariella eased open the buttons on her blouse in invitation, and Butler paused only long enough to catch his breath before bending to take her nipples in his mouth.
Oh. Heaven. She was in heaven.
This was better than any dream had been. At least until he pushed off her, breathing hard, his hair mussed, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed. Butler licked his lips and sat up, putting some distance between them.
After a moment of awkward silence, Mariella sat up, too. “Are you...okay?”
“Yeah. Fine. Just don’t want to go too fast.” Butler gave an endearingly embarrassed laugh and cut his gaze from hers. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“You’re not.” Mariella moved closer, half expecting him to move away, but he didn’t. Thank goodness. She put a hand on his arm. “Do you feel rushed?”
“I wasn’t expecting to...um...” Butler coughed. “I don’t have anything.”
“Oh.” Mariella sat back. “Oh. Um. Well, I do. I mean, not here in the living room or anything, but...”
They looked at each other.
“I haven’t, um...been with anyone in a while,” Butler said.
Mariella laughed, and after a minute, she joined him. Impulsively, she moved closer to take his face in her hands and kiss him. Sweetly. Briefly. She put her forehead to his for a moment. “Butler. I like you so much, I really do.”
His hands settled on her hips. “I like you, too.”
“We don’t have to go all the way.” She laughed again at how old-fashioned that sounded. “I mean...there are other things to do.”
“Like watch TV?” he said, and at the look on Mariella’s face, started to laugh. Hard.
She joined him after a moment, and soon they were both guffawing. He drew her closer, laughing into her open mouth, and the laugh became a kiss that lasted and lasted until both of them gasped for breath.
“I want to make love to you,” Butler murmured into her ear, his hands moving over her everywhere but where she wanted him to touch her. “So much.”
“But...?”
He stopped caressing her and held her. “I don’t want to go too fast. Or rush this. It feels right being with you. And I don’t want to screw it up. That’s all.”
Words had never been so simultaneously sweet and frustrating. This was a man she could fall in love with, Mariella thought, and knew at once why Butler wanted to wait. She kissed him again, softly.
“Sleep with me,” she offered.
He hesitated.
“Just sleep,” she said. “I promise.”
* * *
“I want to make love to you,” Butler said. Then, “Hey. What?”
Mariella bent to pick up a shining shell. It had been tricky, trying to fall asleep at the same time. It hadn’t been a guarantee they’d end up in the same dreamscape. But she guessed the force of both their wills had been strong enough to bring them here so close together, as close as they were in her bed right now.
“Hi,” she said.
“Mariella. I’m dreaming, though.” He made a show of looking at his watch, which he’d definitely taken off before getting into bed with her.
“That’s okay,” she told him. “That’s good, in fact.”
“I wanted to dream of you before, but I didn’t.”
“That’s okay, too. I’m here now.” She kissed him.
Behind them, the sands shifted. There was a bed. White sheets, pillows, blowing curtains. And they were on it, and she was naked. So was he. For a guy who’d been worried about kissing her in public, which she’d n
oticed though he hadn’t said so, Butler was sure happy to be getting busy with her on the beach.
But this was a dream, she reminded herself. Things happened in dreams you’d never do in real life. Good things. Bad things. And this, here and now with Butler, was very, very good.
She straddled him, his cock thick and hard, jutting up between them. She rocked against it, letting her clit rub along his smooth, hot skin. “Fuck, baby,” she murmured. “That feels so good.”
Butler settled his hands on her hips, thrusting in time with her. Pleasure coiled tighter inside her, rising, until she couldn’t hold back any longer. Mariella shuddered in orgasm, crying out his name. As her body clenched, Butler shifted, moving her higher to slide inside her. His entry sent another wave of climax cascading through her. She came and came and came, riding him. Her head tipped, her hair brushing her shoulders and lower back.
Never stopping his steady, slow thrusting, Butler slid a hand between them and found her clit with his thumb. More pleasure hit her. She was lost in it. Delirious, almost.
Mariella looked at him, his face so serious. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and upper lip; she leaned to lick it away. Then to kiss him. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as their teeth clashed, but there was no pain. Only pleasure. He fucked deep inside her, his fingers working her clit and then one hand slipped around to press a gentle finger on her asshole.